


if you feel like falling down, i'll carry you home

by Valkyrees



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Drabbles, F/F, Ficlets, fic prompts and whatnot, things posted on tumblr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-22
Updated: 2019-06-22
Packaged: 2021-01-04 12:02:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21197339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Valkyrees/pseuds/Valkyrees
Summary: Lena drops her hand from her keys, stifles her groan as she turns around, and then… blinks to make sure she’s not dreaming.There’s an awkward, frumpled woman leaned against the doorway across from her–-messy curls, flour-dusted pink apron,blueeyes, giant candle clutched in her large hands.Which aren’t even her most important descriptors, Lena’s not sure why she noticed those first: there’s a superfitwoman across from her, bright and pretty and tall and blonde; and, for some reason, she’s smiling like Lena’s presence is making her whole, entire night.And that’s… maybe a little weird, but she’s cute and Lena’s interested.&&&this is an entire collection of drabbles/ficlets i've posted on tumblr.





	if you feel like falling down, i'll carry you home

**Author's Note:**

> hi all. a long time ago someone requested i put all my drabbles and ficlets from tumblr on here, so here they are. some of these got polished up and became full stories, and some of these have never been posted here before. if i write anything new on tumblr, i'll probably be adding it here.
> 
> anywho, thanks for reading and thanks to everyone who sends me prompts/asks/leaves feedback etc. <3 <3 <3
> 
> im over on tumblr: [here](https://valkyrieskwad.tumblr.com/) if you wanna talk to me/send me anything/various other whatnots (((8

_ **1.** _

“So where exactly are we?” Kara asks, trying not to make it _too _obvious that she’s been focused on Lena hard enough that she hasn’t noticed any markers in their surroundings. They’re in a forest area and the building in front of them is sort of dome like thing, so she can at least gather something from that. “Is it like a bird habitat or something?”

“No, um, it’s a…. bat sanctuary,” Lena says, chewing on her lip afterwards like it’s supposed to spark anything in Kara other than the shivers she gets. “I mean not like, because, _you know_,” she adds on quickly afterwards. “I know vamps aren’t um, bats or whatnot, but saw this thing online about the sanctuary and thought it would be cool to come to. They’re cute little things, thought you might like them.”

“Oh, really?” Kara says, smiling too big for a second before dissolving into giggles. “Bringing a vamp to a bat sanctuary, very classy. Very retro chic. Very nineteen seventy-nine vampire ideology of you.”

“Oh my god,” Lena huffs, alarmed and embarrassed and smiling all at the same time. “It’s not like that, I swear. Just thought you’d like them, and then on the car ride here I was like oh shit this is weird. She has no idea I know she shapeshifts every night.”

Kara snorts at that, loud and dorky and for a second she nearly forgets she’s absolutely terrified of bats._ Nearly._ But nothing can make her forget the times her vampire cohort was doing lots of their traveling during nights to be safe, when the bats would swarm in certain areas and scare the living–unliving–shit out of her.

“Yeah, no, this sounds awesome,” she starts. “And I think bats deserve loads of sanctuaries and safe-zones, never opposed to that, but um. Overall, I think bats are just… way too small and fast and they make weird noises and they’re full of too many secrets and mysteries. Again, like, I respect them, but I would prefer slash rather-not be surrounding by their kind. Sort of. Again, loads of respect, they’re great. In theory. From afar. On the internet.”

“What?” Lena’s jaw actually does a cartoon-like drop thing at that. “Seriously? Actually? Is Kara the vampire Danvers afraid of _bats_, of all things?”

“He_ey_,” Kara says, still smiling because Lena’s smiling. “I’ve seen you do a backflip at the sight of a spider, so we all have our things.”

“Fine,” Lena says, pale skin glowing in her dark flannel, fall weather and colorful leaves creating the most mesmerizing backdrop for her green eyes, Kara absolutely staring too fucking hard at her. “We don’t have to see the bats, alright? But you still owe me a date, so pick something else.”

_**2.**_

“Oh. So you’re not a ghost. Or, like, some weird cat-person hybrid.”

Lena pauses with her key half-twisted in her apartment door, thinks about how warm and friendly that voice sounds, and then _sighs_. She doesn’t mean to be rude –- she’s not antisocial, she swears, really -– but god.

There’s so much stress and fatigue weighing on her body, she’s pretty sure she’d rather do anything right now other than _talk_ to her _neighbor_. Really, anything, not an exaggeration. But, fuck, she can’t just ignore her, and she’s never actually met her, so.

Fine. _Fine_.

Lena drops her hand from her keys, stifles her groan as she turns around, and then… blinks to make sure she’s not dreaming.

There’s an awkward, frumpled woman leaned against the doorway across from her–-messy curls, flour-dusted pink apron, _blue_ eyes, giant candle clutched in her large hands.

Which aren’t even her most important descriptors, Lena’s not sure why she noticed those first: there’s a super_ fit _woman across from her, bright and pretty and tall and blonde; and, for some reason, she’s smiling like Lena’s presence is making her whole, entire night.

And that’s… maybe a little weird, but she’s cute and Lena’s interested.

“No?” Lena says, voice low and scratchy from a long night of lecturing. “I mean, I can’t say I don’t generally feel dead inside, but… cat-person hybrid?”

“I saw it in a movie trailer last week,” the woman offers, then she cants her hip a bit and says, “I think it was called, like, _Cats_. I’m Kara Danvers, by the way. Nice to finally meet you.”

“I’m Lena Luthor. Finally?”

“Heard from J'onn I was getting a new neighbor, but, you know, I’ve never actually_ heard_ you before,” Kara says, lowering her candle with one hand and knocking her fist against the wall with the other. “Just weird, since you can practically hear everyone’s breathing in this building.”

“Oh,” Lena says, and. Maybe it’s the fatigue, or maybe it’s the way Kara’s eyes are glittering that’s making Lena nervous, but her best attempt at a response is – “Sounds a little stalkerish, don’t you think? Listening for me breathing.”

“Only when you put it that way,” Kara laughs, unexpectedly and warm, head tilting slightly. Then she takes a step forward and, instead of offering a hand to shake, she offers Lena… the candle. “Made this myself, it’s um…” she trails off, then shrugs, “Just, think of it like a welcoming gift. From your friendly fourth floor stalker.”

Lena laughs herself, soft and raspier than usual, chest feeling light for the first time since she woke up this morning. Then she takes the candle and twists it in her fingers–three wicks, red, smells like cranberry. “Thanks I guess, sure it smells like misery and regret, probably, to match your stalker lifestyle.”

“Should be perfect for keeping you company, then,” Kara teases back, and Lena thinks she just might really like her. “What are you up to tonight, by the way?”

“Dodging your stalker questions?”

Kara’s smile doesn’t even miss a beat as she ignores Lena and casually responds, “I’m having a movie night, if you want to join.”

“Was going to take a nap, I think,” Lena dodges, “wake up and do some work in a couple hours.”

“It’s already nine, that sounds miserable. My idea is way better.”

“Didn’t know this was a competition,” Lena comments.

Then Kara throws her head back and _really_ laughs, which, incredible. “That’s what losers always say, come on. Seriously,” she tilts her head. “Come in, you’ll have fun.”

Okay, Lena thinks. That’s fine, Lena thinks. This is okay. She doesn’t need to do work, anyway. She doesn’t really _need_ a nap. It’s fine that Kara’s stunning and making her heart beat awkwardly.

So suddenly her keys are in her hand and not in her door, and suddenly she’s across the hall and entering Kara’s apartment, and suddenly things take a weird turn. Because she’s not magically alone with Kara, she’s in a living room with Kara and two other girls.

“Kara, what the heck?” one of them–-the one with short, dark hair–says as she. As she ties a rope harness. Around another girl. Who also has her hands tied in front of her. And is also tall, brown hair, lovely and pretty and smiling at Lena.

“So, who are you?” she asks.

“I’m Lena,” Lena says.

And then Kara grabs Lena’s elbow gently and gestures broadly to the both of the women. “That’s Sam and Alex, and–” she gestures back to Lena, “–this is our new neighbor.”

“Oh, so you’re not a ghost,” Sam–-or Alex?–-says. Whoever has the rope on them. “We had a bet going. You’re super quiet, you know?”

“You’re casually doing living room bondage, you know?” Lena says back, which is maybe sassier than she wants to be, and maybe being here on two hours of sleep is like, a bad_bad_ idea.

But Kara mediates everything with her sunshine laugh and tightens her grip on Lena’s elbow. “It’s fine, Alex is doing a workshop Saturday and Sam’s helping her practice.”

“Helping me practice is generous,” Alex says, focused intensely on a loop she’s making. “She hasn’t stopped squirming since we started.”

_ **3.** _

“I promise it’s not what it looks like. Lena’s just showing me her nipple piercings,” Kara says, cheeks on fire with how hard she’s blushing.

She knows this doesn’t exactly look innocent, what with her hands cupping Lena’s boobs, with her thumbs actually pressed against her nipples.

But, _god_, this wasn’t even her idea–-Lena _asked_ if Kara wanted to touch them, just to like, demonstrate how sensitive they are. Prove a point and all that.

Which sounds like a shit excuse even in Kara’s _own_ head, but she’s four shots into the party, low on self control and inhibitions, and it doesn’t help that Lena’s skin is perfect and amazing and _glowing. _And it really doesn’t help that Lena showed up to the party wearing a black mesh shirt, with a black mesh bra and her nipples have been on display the entire crapping night.

Just there, for Kara to see, for Kara to get side-tracked by every time Lena flicks across her vision.

And it definitely, absolutely doesn’t help that Lena asked Kara to come to the bathroom with her–-where she conveniently pointed out that Kara’d been staring more than her usual amount. And Kara had to explain that she’d never seen nipple piercings before, that she didn’t _know_ Lena had them, and that she was… _fascinated_, is how she explained it, but it feels like a bit more than that.

(Not that nipple piercings are terribly uncommon, or remarkable even, or that Lena having them should be a shocker, really.

She’s got other piercings, after all–-at least three in each ear and her belly button and her _tongue_, so Kara should have expected this maybe, but.

She didn’t, and now she can’t stop looking).

And that somehow got them in _this_ situation–-hands on boobs and all that–-and Kara would really like it if Alex stopped freaking gaping at them and just left them to be alone in the bathroom again.

Jesus _Christ_. “Alex, could you stop staring? The bathroom is occupied can’t you see?”

“I can _see_ a lot of things,” Alex retorts, smiling just like the drunk little shitter that she is. Then she giggles, loud and bubbly, and Kara just about rolls her eyes out of her head. “Are you two, like–”

“Alex, _please_, could you–” Christ, now Lena’s giggling _too_, her different colored eyes brighting up as she looks at Kara, and. This whole situation is way _too much_ for Kara to be the most sober one in the room. She shifts her hands over so her palms are covering Lena’s nipples, then she shifts her body over, so she’s shielding her entirely. “Could you leave, Alex? Please?”

“Sure thing, have fun,” Alex says, and then.

Finally, _thank god_, she laughs again and leaves out the door, clicking it shut behind her. 

So now Kara can focus her attention back on _Lena_, back on her piercings, maybe get back to the conversation they were having previously.

Anywho. 

“They really are sensitive,” Kara says, feeling Lena’s nipples still hard underneath her palms, even though they _should_ be shy and mortified. 

Like Kara feels right now.

She’s not sure if she’s overstaying her welcome, like if she should pull her hands off, but Lena’s still smiling and her eyes are still twinkling, so maybe it’s okay if Kara sticks around another few seconds. It’s just, _well_, Lena’s skin is so soft, and she’s warm, and if it didn’t sound creeping creepy, Kara would say she could keep her hands here forever.

“Does it hurt?” Kara asks. “Are they too sensitive? Like, right now?”

“Not at all,” Lena says, blinking her eyes slowly, licking her tongue over her bottom lip so now it’s wet and glistening–something Kara definitely, definitely doesn’t let her eyes linger on. “Feels amazing. And like, some of it has to do with you, probably.”

Which, um. Right.

“Oh,” Kara gushes, not quite sure why she’s blushing so hard.

Alex is gone now. She’s just having a friendly chat with her best friend. She’s straight. They’re both straight. They’ve both had shit boyfriends this past year. There’s no reason for her cheeks to feel this warm, for Lena to be looking up at her _expectantly_. 

What is she expecting? _What is she_?

“I mean,” Lena says, resting her hands on top of Kara’s and pushing them down, trailing them along her belly, over her sides until Kara’s gripping her waist. “They’re not usually _this_ excited, you see?”

So, okay-–thing is, Kara’s been hardcore willing herself to focus on Lena’s eyes, not be a creeper and all that, but it feels like Lena wants her to look elsewhere, and it feels like Lena’s poking her chest up to make that easy.

So.

Crap, Kara looks down, and yeah. _Yeah. _Those are Lena’s nipples, and those are her hands on Lena’s body, and that’s definitely heat curling in her belly. 

And maybe she’s not straight.

Fuck, _no,_ she’s just drunk. That’s all it is.

“They’re really pretty,” she says, for lack of better–okay, she’s just freaking dumb, and that sort of slipped through her mental stream without her realizing it. 

But, it’s not like it isn’t true, and it’s not like Lena doesn’t deserve to hear it. She’s Kara’s best friend-–_best friend-_–and the nicest person Kara knows. And the sweetest, and loveliest, and prettiest, _yes_, so she deserves to hear nice things.

“I mean, if that’s okay to say,” Kara clarifies, like an even bigger idiot, glancing back up at Lena’s face.

And–crap, that was a mistake-–Lena’s _blushing_ now, flushed a beautiful shade of red, lip tucked beneath her teeth, eyes wide and absolutely mesmerizing. And Kara wants to kiss her. She really, truly wants to kiss her.

And that one–that’snot a drunk thought.

Crap, _ugh_.

“_You’re_ really pretty,” Kara continues, since Lena’s not talking, and apparently that just makes Kara talk _more_. 

She’s not sure if it’s nerves, or if it’s the way Lena reacts to her voice–how her breath catches, how she’s biting her lip hard enough to turn it a deep pinkish color. Or the way she’s looking at Kara–-like every word Kara says is the most important thing she’s ever going to hear. 

“Always thought so, you know? Right from when I first saw you. I just, I can’t explain it. There’s something about you. Crap, sorry, I–”

“Don’t be,” Lena says, voice low and smooth. 

And like, she’s half-naked. They’re casually talking as if Lena’s shirt isn’t lifted up, as if she’s not exposed, as if Kara isn’t _close_ and they’re not touching. It feels like - like this can’t be happening. Like Kara should pull away and clear her head, laugh this whole thing off as if it’s a bad joke.

But it isn’t. 

The tug in her belly definitely doesn’t _feel_ that funny. There’s nothing _ha ha knee slap_ about the way Lena’s eyes are darkening. Kara’s definitely not giggling over the fact that Lena’s staring at her lips just as much as she’s staring at Lena’s.

For some reason, Kara can’t explain it, but she moves one of her hands back up and thumbs across Lena’s nipple again. And when Lena shifts forward like she’s melting and let’s out a little noise, Kara - she just about breaks.

And then she _actually_ breaks when Lena lifts up and kisses her.

She’s not joking. Her brain does this weird thing where it statics out, and for a moment the kiss is just Lena sucking Kara’s bottom lip into her mouth, running her tongue ring over it. For a moment, the kiss is just Kara frozen with her thumb still mindlessly rubbing Lena’s nipple.

For a moment, Kara legit stops working.

But then there’s something about the pressure of it, Lena’s tongue ring dragging across her lip, that sets her off. That causes her to pull Lena in so they’re pressed flush together, causes her to snap into it and kiss Lena like she actually means it. 

Which is weirder than weird to think about, but-–_wow_.

She actually means it.

_ **4.** _

Ah, she’s a superhero, Lena realizes.

And that _somehow_ makes this woman even more attractive. Which is a very _dangerous thought_, Lena acknowledges, somewhere in a back corner of her mind.

But she doesn't exactly have time dwell on it, since she's currently like, _dying_. Well, maybe not dying per se, but she’s pretty sure one of the bullets from the robbery grazed her thigh.

And she’s pretty sure she’s the only one currently watching the cute girl with the curls and the glasses–-the one that visits the shop every day and snorts when she laughs and flirts too awkwardly; the one that’s never been socially skilled enough to actually tell Lena her name, _that one_–-that girl is currently running towards Lena at a speed no human can achieve.

Lena would know, too, since she’s like, a human and all. And this girl, well, she’s apparently not.

Either way, everyone else was apparently smart enough to run away from where the shots sounded, but Lena’s sort of frozen to her spot. Still frozen even when the girl gets to her and rips the sleeve of her button-down off (_rips her fucking sleeve off_, easy as anything. She doesn’t just move fast, she’s strong as fuck too) and wraps it around Lena’s bullet wound.

Fuck, Lena has a _bullet wound, _shit_fuck._

She’s going to pass out.

_ **5.** _

Lena’s stomach drops as she hears the clink, her hand just a millisecond too slow to catch the ring before it falls through the street grate.

“Crap,” she whispers, breath hitching in her chest.

It’s like time slows down, like the sounds from the car horns wash out and it’s just her. It’s just her and her thudding heart and burning ears as she stares in shock. In utter fucking dumbstruck disbelief.

She’s been dating Kara six months now, so she assumed it was fine to steal her class ring, _endearing_, thought maybe Kara would find it cute, since like. She always thinks it’s cute when Lena wears her shirts, so same principle applies, right?

Not right, _no_, especially not when Lena goes and drops it down a fucking storm drain.

Either way, the only way to face it is head-on, she thinks, so she picks up her phone and dials Kara-–and then completely freezes as soon as the phone’s pressed to her ear and she hears, “Hi sweetheart.”

_ **6.** _

“Why are you naked? And why are you holding my Pulitzer Prize?”

“So, funny story,” Lena says, like she’s unsure what to do with the prize in her hand, probably since it does shit-all to block anything. “Really, really funny story.”

Then, she just clears her throat and smiles, and there’s an awkward pause where they both just stare at each other.

It’s probably Kara’s turn to comment, since it looks like Lena’s not saying anything else, but she’s sort of waiting for the right time. Maybe after Lena makes an attempt to cover herself instead of standing naked right in front of her.

(It’s not–it shouldn’t even be a big deal. She sees Lena in her underwear everyday and naked every night. But she’s still not _over _it, somehow. It’s just, Lena has the world’s best body for Rao’s sake, and she’s casually only wearing Kara’s greatest achievement right now).

“Like, _ha ha _funny?” Kara finally asks. “Or like, you had to be there?”

Lena snorts, laughing full and natural, even though she’s naked, even though her belly’s shaking with her giggles. Kara takes it as a compliment, loves that Lena’s comfortable in front of her. Especially since it wasn’t always that way.

But still–-there’s a very serious matter at hand, one that requires an explanation no matter how cute and naked Lena currently is.

“So, I grabbed it on reflex,” Lena finally explains. “Since, like, you see.” She gestures around her and, no, Kara does _not_ see. Then Lena elaborates, low and in a rush, cheeks positively pink, “I killed a spider with it.”

Kara gasps.

_ **7.** _

“Hi, sweetheart,” Kara says, leaning her head through Lena’s apartment door and placing a kiss on her mouth. “Gonna let me in?”

“Hi, Kara,” Lena says, still keeping the door _just _cracked enough that Kara can only peek her head through. “You do realize it’s two in the morning?”

“Yes, I know that,” Kara smiles, tangling her fingers in Lena’s t-shirt. “This mine?”

Lena rolls her eyes and contemplates narrowing the opening, but decides she likes Kara touching her more than she likes being asleep at two in the morning. Which is an issue. They should talk about it. “Moving into the same building as you was a mistake.”

Kara bites her lip, giggling, and leans her head against the door frame. Lena nearly misses her snaking her fingers underneath her shirt, but it’s hard not to notice when Kara’s always ten degrees hotter than a normal person. So now Lena has a big warm hand on her belly and it’s getting really hard to turn away the tall girl it’s attached to.

“How would you steal all my clothes if you weren’t so close?” Kara asks, running her thumb over Lena’s skin.

It’s a valid question - half of Lena’s closet is basically Kara’s clothes at this point, but that’s irrelevant at two in the morning. “I was sleeping, you know?” Lena lies. “You can’t just come over at this time like it’s normal.”

“You weren’t sleeping,” Kara says confidently, nudging the door with her arm. Lena finally lets it open and Kara doesn’t miss a beat looping her arm around Lena’s waist and pulling her in. “You’re always like, half-blind right when you first wake up. I would have heard you bumping into at least three things.”

“We can’t keep doing this,” Lena says, but she’s already walking them backwards and snuggling against Kara’s chest. “We haven’t been dating long enough to have trouble sleeping apart.”

Kara turns them a bit once they’re inside the apartment, so she can shut the door, and then she’s hugging Lena snug snug snug in her arms. “We already talked about this, baby. Can’t help how we feel about each other. Okay?”

“Okay,” Lena says, because, _fine_, maybe Kara’s right. 

Besides, she doesn’t want to talk anymore, eyes already heavy now that she’s warm and Kara’s wrapped around her. It’s like it’s Pavlovian, like the moment Kara’s there, she’s out like a log. They should talk about that too. 

“Okay,” she says, snuggling in closer. “But tomorrow we sleep apart, I mean it.”

_ **8.** _

“Are they gonna take my teeth out?” Lena slurs, shoving her face inside the fuzzy blanket, blinking slow enough that she’s probably more asleep than she is awake.

Kara really wants to kiss her right now, both because she’s adorable when she’s post-surgery high and, well, generally because Lena’s pretty and amazing and she really deserves kisses at all times.

But her cheeks are puffy from the gauze, and her lips are raw, and Kara’s afraid she’ll hurt her mouth with a kiss. So she just holds her hand instead. “Yeah, baby. They already took them out. We’re just waiting for the nurse and the aftercare instructions.”

“They took them out?” Lena asks, blinking one eye up at Kara like she can’t manage the other one. “When?”

Kara bites her lip to keep her laugh from bubbling out, but she’s pretty sure Lena wouldn’t notice anyway. “They took them out during the surgery. They took you into a room and everything. Your wisdom teeth are all gone.”

“Oh,” Lena says, and for some reason she looks incredibly forlorn. Kara clicks her phone open and starts recording, because-–_fine,_she knows she promised she wouldn’t, but-–she didn’t realize it’d be this good. “Well are they gonna give them back?”

Lena’s blinking right at the camera and it’s the cutest thing ever; Kara’s definitely sending this to the team. “I don’t know if we can get them back, we can ask the nurse,” she says. “But do you really want them? They were kind of mean.”

“Yeah, they hurt,” Lena says, like she’s actually considering that as a serious statement. “They hurt a lot. I feel weird. I don’t know where I am.”

“You’re with me,” Kara smiles, giving her hand a squeeze. She’s pretty sure if Lena’s mouth weren’t numb and she weren’t currently drooling, she’d be smiling too. Maybe. “That’s all that matters, right? You’re always safe with me.”

“Always safe with you,” Lena repeats, and this time Kara’s almost certain she’s trying to smile. “You love me?”

Kara can feel her belly shaking with how hard her body’s trying to giggle. “Of course, baby. Tell you all the time, don’t I? Love you more than anything.”

“Yeah,” Lena says, softly, eyes still blinking up at Kara. And then, instead of saying_ i love you too_, the little turd just says, “I want ice cream.”

Kara laughs and clicks her phone off, since she probably has a sufficient amount of cuteness filmed and now she wants to hold Lena’s hand in both of hers.

“You’re gonna have all the ice cream you want once we’re home,” she assures her, still giggling because she can’t _help it_. She has the cutest, sweetest girl on the planet, and it’s a little hard to handle. “Got all your favorites, sweetheart, promise.”

“Okay,” Lena says, snuggling into her blanket and squeezing Kara’s hand. “Okay, I’ll sleep now.”

_ **9.** _

Some days you take your coffee black.

You pour a large cup straight from the pot, hot enough to scorch your taste buds, forgo any cream or sugar. Because it reminds you that you _can_ swallow something bitter.

So you sip it while you watch Kara sleep from your stiff chair on the balcony. Sip it while you take a second to let your mind wander to the _unthinkable thought_, while you let yourself feel unwanted and un-pretty and _sad _about the fact that _she settled_.

She settled for _you_. Kara Danvers the vampire, the girl with the pretty eyes and kaleidoscope hair that reflects all the different colors of sunlight. The one with a smile so easy you barely noticed the fangs the first time you met her.

The one that could have absolutely anyone in the world. Yes, _her_, she settled for you.

It makes no sense at all, in your mind, because she’s warm where you’re cold and soft where you’re hard, and it’s less of a compliment in your view, than it is an incompatibility.

And yet, she’s here.

Every morning she’s snugged cozy with her forehead pressed against your cheek, or her legs entangled in yours or her lips dancing on your skin even in her dreams, and it’s like a shock of harsh air to your system when you stop too long to think about it.

Most mornings you’re fine with it, can figure your way through the shit parts of your mind until you find _her _again and let her fill you up, but some mornings are like _this_.

Some mornings are filled with clumped throats and self-doubt and weird pity and a taste so bitter in your mouth, you almost think you can’t stomach it. But then you take another sip of your coffee and remember that you can.

x

She joins you, after you’ve been out long enough that you’ve given up watching her. After you’ve been leaned against the railing, watching the city long enough that your lips are chapped and the winds swept your hair in a number of unflattering directions.

She joins you and fits her hands on your waist, presses you in firm against the support bar and kisses the back of your hair, instant butterflies in your belly making you grip your cup tighter.

“Couldn’t sleep?” she asks, and you nod, afraid to speak because you know she’ll notice the lack of sweetness on your breath, knows she’ll pick out that it’s one of _those_ mornings, and you’re tired enough to not want it to become A Conversation. “Should wake me next time, love to watch the morning rise with you, you know, see the sun in your eyes.”

“Yeah,” you say, already giving up on silence because it’s hard to hold back when you can feel the weight of her against you, when you can feel her fingertips dancing against your skin through the thin fabric of your silk robe.

Then you tilt your head, easily, just slightly, a tell-tale signal you’ve both become accustomed to; something that’s natural now even if it still makes your heart squeeze tight. And, _god_, Kara doesn’t miss a beat. She pins you firmer against the bar, gentle and sure and intoxicating, then lifts her hand and slides your hair off your neck.

It drives you crazy, makes your chest swell up, makes you frantic the way she does it, sorting the strands slow enough that you have to swallow swallow swallow to keep your throat from going dry.

And once she’s done, she licks you first, doesn’t go straight for the bite, wet tongue soft and _warm_ against your early morning cold skin. And _then_ she flexes her fangs out, once your skin is spit-slick with goosebumps prickling in the cool air, she flexes them out and pushes against your pulse, indentations from the pressure of them shooting heat through your body fast and _flushing_.

Right before she pauses. Because she _always_ pauses. Even after eleven years of her sinking her fangs in you neck, she still pauses and waits for you to nod. Waits for you to melt into her and close your eyes. Waits for you to open up and settle down and _relax_.

She waits until you’re ready, waits until you’re sure, waits until you exhale long and shaky and laced with anticipation.

Then you feel the sharp sting of her pressing in and that’s when--that’s _always_ when--you remember all the ways she loves you. When you remember that she didn’t settle, that she wanted you first and wanted you _bad_, that it was _you_ that ended up being the one that was hard to get all along.

You remember your wedding vows and her hands the first time she touched you. You remember every smile that’s ever settled on her face and every kiss of hers that’s ever settled on your lips and—

You remember all the things that make you feel warm, all the reasons that she stays and _you’re _worth it; you remember every single detail of her love and then you smile.

You smile big, neck flexing against the sound of her humming, and you make a mental note to put sugar in your coffee tomorrow morning.

_ **10.** _

Kara doesn’t, you know, spend her days fantasizing about necks or anything like that, but–

She’s a vampire, for whatever that’s worth. And no matter how many vows she makes to never drink human blood, or how committed she is to non-violent coexistence, it doesn’t change the fact that… _god_, Lena Luthor has a really nice neck–long, pale, corded with muscle when she strains it and perfectly freaking perfect.

Kara can’t help but notice how it moves when she talks or eats or _does anything_, or really truly, how soft the hollow of her throat looks on any given day, in any given picture. Like it’d make Kara’s heart erratic if it could, like it’d give her that thumpthumpthump feeling in her chest if it was possible, and _god_, again.

She just… she really can’t think of any other exclamation, because it’s just so entirely distracting.

“That one’s perfect,” she says, looking down at her shoes again. She’s always doing that around Lena, always looking away, mind always going wild and confused whenever it hits her how truly beautiful Lena is, how absolutely flawless she manages to be. “Where’d you say you’re going?”

“My ex-boyfriend,” Lena says, bright like it’s a date, like she’s looking good for _him_. “We’re meeting up tonight, has some of my things he needs to give back.”

“And you need a choker for that?” Kara asks, hoping she doesn’t sound disappointed, but keeping her eyes on the floor just in case she does. “Thought you said he was, um, like a jerk.”

“Yeah, he’s a real dick,” Lena chirps, and Kara glances up just in time to catch Lena fiddling with the choker, adjusting it on her neck. Kara isn’t obsessed with necks, she isn’t, nono_no_, but she’s not imagining the fact that Lena only wears low-cut shirts now, only sends selfies with her full-neck in view. She’s not… _ugh_, maybe she’s reading too much into it, maybe she is weird. “The choker’s just part one of my two part plan to drive him crazy.”

“What’s part two?” Kara asks, shoving her hands in her pocket and looking away again. Lena would never be interested in her, let alone want Kara’s fangs in her neck. Kara’s not even into that, anyway. “Why do you need to drive him crazy?”

“He was a dick, Kara, did you not hear that part?” she asks, like it logically follows that she should look _good_ for him as a punishment. “Part two is the hickey I’ll have from my_ new _boyfriend. The choker is just to draw his attention to it.”

“Your what?” Kara asks, lifting her head fast enough to make her bangs flop. “You have a new boyfriend?”

“No, you’d be the first to know,” Lena says, rolling her eyes. But it’s playful, like there’s a fire dancing behind them and both her and Kara are in it together. She always makes Kara feel so included. “The hickey is just to make him think I have a new boyfriend.”

“But you don’t have a hickey,” Kara points out. Lena just smiles, like it’s a silly thing to say, like there’s something Kara’s not getting that should be painfully obvious. And then suddenly it _is_ painfully obvious. “Lena, I can’t–”

“Kara, it’s like six seconds of licking my neck, not the end of the world.” _But i’m a vampire_, Kara wants to say out loud, but that gives them a bad reputation. Really, she should say, but_ i’m in love with you_. “You’re my best friend, who else am I gonna ask to do this? I need you.”

She pauses like she’s waiting for Kara to speak, but Kara’s mind is still stuck on lovelove_love_, so Lena shrugs and says, “Fine, I’ll just grab a guy in the lounge.”

“No,” Kara blurts, like her mouth processes that faster than her brain. “I’ll do it.”

“Awesome,” Lena says.

“That’s what friends are for,” Lena says.

And then suddenly Lena’s close in front of her, with her flowery perfume and long lashes and exposed neck craned in the direction of Kara’s mouth. Suddenly Lena’s heart’s beating so fast, so _loud_, that Kara feels like she has one herself, feels like it’s practically jumping out of her chest.

Suddenly, _crap_, Kara’s fangs pop out, and she–_god_, she knows Lena knows what that means when it happens involuntarily, and she’s so incredibly embarrassed.

“I’m so sorry,” she says, trying her best to bury her fangs in her bottom lip. She spent so many years telling herself they’re perfectly okay, but now they just seem so offensive and unwanted and _why_ does she have them–she drinks blood from animals that’s packaged and uncontaminated. She’ll never, ever have to hunt for her food it’s such an ancient concept, ugh.

“For what?” Lena asks, as if she’s not even fazed, head still tilted as if Kara’s still supposed to like? Give her a hickey. With her fangs out, with her fangs that are trying to either express _i want to eat_you or_ i’m so turned on right now i could just… eat you_ or a combination of the two. “We have to hurry, need to leave soon so I can be just slightly late.”

Her voice sounds calm, low and even in that dreamy way that just screams Lena Luthor, but… Kara can hear her heart beat. Kara can hear the cadence of her breathing, can see how tense she is and how her chest is rising and she can smell, um, wow. Okay. It’s just–

Lena _has_ been sending her pictures, Kara’s not imagining it, and sometimes it just. Sometimes it feels like they’re more risque than they should be, or like, more revealing. And they’re always accentuating her neck, even when Kara’s actively trying not to think about it.

And she could be crazy, could be batshit losing her mind so horny she’s making crap up crazy, but right now she can swear that Lena’s (at least a little, tiny bit) turned on.

And that, that’s a lot to handle, lot to figure out.

You know, like.

Kara could go with her gut and explain that, what? That she’s not interested in drinking Lena’s blood, if that’s what she’s searching for. But that wouldn’t be honest, would it? She’s been fantasizing about that for a while now, is the truth of it. Kara Danvers doesn’t spend her days fantasizing about _necks_, plural, she spends them thinking about Lena’s.

And now it’s right there, in front of her, _angled_ towards her, and–_christ_, what is she even thinking. “Lena, I’m not drinking your blood, you know that. Stop this.”

Lena pouts, instantly, and then she sighs and says, “Fine, have it your way. I’m gonna get ice cream from the store, wanna tag along and get a blood-pop?”

“Yeah, of course,” Kara says, and then listens closely to the decrescendo of Lena’s heart beat, just hoping it’ll calm her imaginary one.

_ **11.** _

This is it. This is officially what kills her.

This is even worse than when Lena had the huge crisis about turning fifty. When she panicked and thought she was just _too_old.

When she tried to send Kara on a solo intergalactic vacation with the hopes that she’d find a nice, young extraterrestrial to fuck that doesn’t _look_ half-a-century. 

(Okay, maybe not worse than that, but like.

What slow-aging alien in her right mind wants an old Luthor with a full-on gray strip down her hair? _Right? _Except Kara just laughed when she said that and then snuggled her for six hours, because she’s probably never actually been in her right mind.

And she’ll probably never actually _be_ in her right mind, let’s be honest, especially when it comes to loving Lena fucking Luthor, of all the people in the universe.

Which probably explains _this_.)

“It’s a new accessory,” Supergirl says to the camera, fiddling with the scarf around her waist–long and pretty and_ silk_, and knotted at her hip so it drapes down her thigh.

Except there’s nothing _new_ about that particular scarf–it’s worn colors, the fraying from too many knots, the way Lena can practically smell Kara’s body wash on it even through the TV, the way Lena can’t stop watching, no, _staring_ as the material slides through Kara’s fingers.

“Thought I’d add a little style into my wardrobe, you know, spice things up,” Kara goes on, like it’s an innocent addition to her supersuit. Like it’s anything other than the scarf Lena’s used to tie her up for fucking _years_.

It’s not even the first time she’s worn it, is the thing. She’s been obsessed with it ever since it moved from being a simple part of Lena’s wardrobe to a part of their sex life.

But usually she’ll wrap it in her hair when she’s Kara and at the grocery store. Usually she’ll loop it around her neck when she’s at the park and walking the dogs. So she can send Lena selfies while she’s holding fruit or nibbling her lip in the sunlight.

So she can tell Lena _i’m yours_ or _i’m thinking about you _or _i want your hands in my hair as you untie it to fuck me_ or _i want you pulling me in by the neck to kiss me._

_This_, though, this is new. And okay, yeah, it’s been pretty obvious that Kara’s reaching her breaking point, that she needs Lena maybe more than she used to, that she can’t go long periods anymore without Lena wrapped around her, snuggling her, holding her, and _fine_.

It’s been that way for some time now; this isn’t a _shock_.

Kara’s been clingy ever since they dropped their youngest off at college, after she refused to put the bed down because she had to ’_place it a just the perfect angle for sleeping and please, Lena, the room decor we cant go yet. What if she doesn’t make friends, we should stick around_,’ but.

_Ugh_.

They both have careers and lives and duties outside each other, and sometimes Kara needs to leave the planet, and sometimes Lena needs to leave the country, and sometimes other people _need _them. Which has always been a good understanding between the two of them.

So Lena’s been confident that Kara was _handling_ her being in Japan working on a merger for the past two weeks, but now she’s watching her wife on national television wearing _Lena_ around her waist for the whole world to see, and.

Maybe she was wrong.

“Well, I think it’s a beautiful addition to your new suit,” the reporter says, obliviously, and Lena clicks the TV off because she needs to make a call.

_ **12.** _

It doesn’t really occur to Lena that she has a crush on Kara, until it hits her one day–-out of the blue, out of nowhere, unexpectedly–-and then she spends the next ten minutes with her heart in her throat because _what the fuck_?

The worst part is that she doesn’t figure it out during their friendship or even right after their fallout; she figures it out six months after they’ve parted ways, six months after the Big Fight and the tears and harsh words, six months after they’ve said shit-all to one another, stopped acknowledging each other’s existence, and–

Actually, no,_ okay,_ the worst part is that she figures it out when she sees “Liked by **Kara.D** and **19 others**” under an instagram picture she posted of her posing with her hydroponic vegetable garden.

Which is probably the dumbest thing ever.

She’s not even sure why she hasn’t blocked Kara on instagram and all other forms of social media. She’s not even sure why she posted that dumb picture or cares that Kara likes it. She’s not even… she doesn’t really know why there are butterflies in her belly for _this_ of all things.

But there it is. On her phone screen. Kara.D in bold. Kara liked her picture.

+

It happens again a couple days later, and it’s… honestly, it’s not like Lena’s angling for it or whatever, didn’t post another picture just to see if Kara would like it (she didn’t okay, didn’t didn’t didn’t), but Kara’s liked two of her pictures now and some part of that feels addicting.

+

Ugh.

It’s stupid, she knows it’s stupid, knows it’s so dumb it makes her belly twists in knots when she stops too long to think about it–-but the next picture she posts, she’s half-mostly-_entirely_ hoping Kara will like it. She’s angling for it now, officially. She wants it, craves it, wants to see Kara.D in her notifications, and.

She does, of course; Kara likes it, and Lena hates how settled that makes her feel.

+

“I didn’t know either,” Sam comments, a few days later over lunch. “But it doesn’t feel like… I mean, it’s Kara, Lena. You know her mo–”

“I don’t,” Lena says, scraping her fork through her salad leaves, hoping it’s not too obvious how much the tips of her ears are heating up. Because she doesn’t know Kara. She knows the girl Kara wanted her know, the one that seemed quirky and awkward and adorable, when really, honestly, she was just always making up bad excuses to cover her lies.

She didn’t even bother to think of good excuses. She didn’t even respect Lena enough to make it less obvious, just relied on how much Lena so totally, unequivocally trusted her to completely sell her lie lie_ lies_, all the fucking lies. Lena’s as much of a fool as Lex said she is.

“I don’t actually know her, and neither do you. You should remember that.”

Sam shrugs. “You should block her on instagram, then.”

+

Lena doesn’t.

Of course she doesn’t. She posts another picture of her posing with fresh carrots, waits for Kara to like it, and then an hour later gets a text from Sam saying, ’_you should just talk to her. You probably know her more than you think you do_.’

Which is dumb advice and she hates it and hates Sam for saying it.

So she blocks Sam on instagram, instead.

Then she unblocks her when Sam sends the rolling eyes emoji and says, ’_fine, I won’t bring it up again_.’

+

But it was completely a lie, of course it was, because Sam brings it up again a week later in spin class. Right after the instructor makes a Supergirl reference. Right after Lena rolls her eyes and leans in on her bike so maybe she can burn so many calories her brain stops working.

“You know, Supergirl saved my life,” Sam says offhandedly. “She’s saved your life too. Lot’s of times. Nearly gotten killed for trying to protect you, so I’m just saying–”

“It doesn’t matter,” Lena cuts in, which is… weird. It’s weird because she wholeheartedly believes none of that matters, and genuinely doesn’t like or trust Kara, and yet the only thing she’s thought about for the past however many hours is what picture she can post next that Kara might like.

“Really,” she says after a while. “I mean, I don’t doubt she’s a good person. But she played me, and she knew she was doing it the whole time.”

“I guess that’s fair,” Sam says, and then she actually drops the subject.

+

Lena decides on tomatoes for the next picture, and then she spends a weird amount of time getting a good picture, and an even longer time thinking of a good caption. Because her instagram is growing and she wants to be diligent, not for Kara or anything like that.

Anywho.

After a small eternity, she finally goes with, ’_looks like a fruit made it into my vegetable garden_’, and then smiles when Kara’s the first to like it.

+

She doesn’t have a problem. Problems mean there’s something to solve. Problems generate hypotheses and have ways to figure out solutions. Problems indicate that something is actually wrong, is actually fixable, is actually an issue. Lena doesn’t have issues, she has instagram.

And she just really likes posting pictures.

So what if Kara’s liked everything, okay? Even the one with the squash and the one with the eggplants and the one that Lena’s not even in, just her admiring a particularly nice bottle of wine.

So what if like, sometimes she posts pictures and obviously puts something she knows Kara likes, or sometimes she constantly refreshes her phone to see Kara’s name. So what? It’s not a problem, it’s just. It’s life. There are no issues here.

+

Maybe she has a problem, sure, _maybe_ it could be quantified that way if someone’s willing to make a Space Jam-Michael Jordan-arm-type reach to say her instagram posting is an issue. But Lena doesn’t like to think of it that way.

She just thinks it’s a good hobby, a pleasurable pastime. It’s perfectly fine.

Everyone has an instagram. Everyone is posting pictures.

Jesus.

+

It’s a problem, fine,_ fuck_. She can’t stop thinking about Kara, can’t stop imagining her face and her voice and sometimes when Kara takes a while to like a picture she feels a little depressed. And sometimes she just really hopes that Kara will go out on a limb and leave a comment instead.

She just–she wants Kara bad enough it hurts in all the worst-icky ways. She wants her so much she can’t breathe. And at the same time she like, she _despises_ her.

Which is an issue, yes, conflicting things in her brain, creating cognitive dissonance.

But, truly, the instagram thing isn’t the issue. The instagram thing is helping, she thinks. This way she has Kara, but she doesn’t have to have Kara. This way she can post something she likes and Kara can say, ’_i like that, too_.’

This way it’s less messy, and they don’t have to acknowledge that they can’t fix their friendship. Or, like, ever be in a relationship.

This way they can still hold on to each other, and everything doesn’t have to feel so final, so definite.

It doesn’t have to actually, fully be over.

It’s harmless, really.

**Author's Note:**

> [Tumblr.](https://valkyrieskwad.tumblr.com/)


End file.
